“I had to sneeze.”
I should’ve taken her insurance information and driven off like any reasonable CEO with places to be would.
She crashed into my car, for heaven’s sake. Because she had to sneeze.
What did I do? I didn’t get in my car and drive away if that’s what you’re thinking.
Nope. I stuck around. I could suggest I stayed because she needed help, but the truth? She was really, really hot.
We became fast friends. Then friends with benefits. Before I knew it, we were involved in an illicit office romance that had me fumbling through a drawerful of panties to get a Post-It.
It was supposed to be easy—a fling, if you will. A dashing millionaire hero (*adjusts tie*) and a beautiful (stubborn, frustratingly independent, hell-on-wheels) damsel in distress. (Don’t tell her I said that.)
It wasn’t supposed to be forever, but we did want a happy ending. (Pun intended.) We could’ve made it work, too.
But one of us overcomplicated things with the L-word. And the other? They omitted a truth that changed everything.
Author's Note: Relentless, a full-length, standalone novel in the Mason Family Series, delivers a dose of heat and heart. Enjoy!
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Excerpt:
He fiddles with his tie. “Otherwise, I’ll be back upstairs in a few hours, and we can head up to legal. You’ll be communicating with them a lot, and I want to make the introductions.”
“Okay,” I say, following his lead and standing.
He comes around the corner of his desk and stops a few feet in front of me.
Our eyes lock, his irises shifting colors again—deepening—as he takes me in. If we were in another place—any other place—at another time—besides the office in which we both work—I’d raise on my tiptoes and kiss him.
At least, I think that’s what I would do. It’s been so long. But the version of me that lives in my head and plays out fictional romantic interludes believes that’s what would happen.
My mouth goes dry, and my lips are downright parched. But as the reel of the make-believe kiss we’d share finishes in my head, I scamper back to reality and the fact that he’s my boss. And no matter how kissable he is or what I wouldn’t give to lean in to this feeling—the one that feels pretty and desired—I don’t.
I can’t.
Because life is about priorities and having a roof over your head is a big one. So, too, is ensuring that you don’t give people the ability to screw up your life.
Kissing my boss would surely put me at risk for the first one. It would definitely be wading into the waters of the second.
“Let me know if you need anything from me today,” I say, my voice a little raspier than I would like.
His eyes darken, but all he does is nod.
I lift my chin and give him my best-practiced smile. Then I turn on my heel and escape into my office.
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